Just a Normal Boy
by Hopeful Writer
Summary: Harry, sick and tired of Voldemort hurting his friends to get at him, decides to stop it: by running away. This is just a short piece on his reasoning. SEQUEL NOW POSTED AS CH. 2!
1. Just a Normal Boy

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Disclaimer: I own nothing, of course, nor do I claim to be JKR. Sue all you'd like; you'd just waste everyone's time.

A/N – This was just a random thought that popped into my head one day. I was _looking_ for inspiration. This was started before OotP, so there are some contradictions (actually, one big one).

Short Summary: Harry, terrified of hurting his friends and facing off against Voldemort, runs away. These are his thoughts.

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JUST A NORMAL BOY

By: Hopeful Writer

I never wanted to hurt anybody, you know. It just got to be too much. I mean, what do you do when the fate of the world rests on _your_ shoulders? Oh, has that never happened? Of course not. Because you aren't the famous Harry Potter.

But neither am I anymore.

You can't call me cowardly. I _had_ to run away. People, my friends, were getting hurt because of me. If I wasn't there, Vol—sorry, You-Know-Who wouldn't hurt my friends to get at me. 

Besides, somebody else can kill him. Everyone just naturally assumes it's my responsibility to beat him, just because I was a little lucky as a baby.

Does that make any sense?

Nope, not to me either.

I know it's going to hurt at first. I know Ron and Hermione might be upset. And Ginny, sweet, caring Ginny, she'll be heartbroken. But time heals all wounds, to quote some Muggle. They'll get over it. Eventually they'll even realize that it was for the best. Maybe Vol—er, You-Know-Who will even leave them alone and set his sights on someone else. Because none of them will have any connection to me.

Maybe Ron will kill him in the end. That would be great. Ron's always wanted to stand out from his brothers. If he defeated the world's most evil wizard, that'd be something else.

And when it's all over, I'll go back. I'll explain to everyone why I did what I did, and they'll accept that.

On second thought, maybe I'll stay away. I wouldn't want to reopen old wounds.

But for now, I'm disappearing. I'm not Harry Potter, not the Boy Who Lived, not Scar-Head, or anything else. Just a normal 17-year-old boy.

A normal 17-year-old boy with a lightening bolt scar, horrible nightmares, and a whole lot of guilt.

A/N – Real short. Just something I thought was a little interesting. Who know? It has possible sequel potential. §--HW--§


	2. Guilty Conscience

Disclaimer: And by a disclaimer to say we end the lawsuits and the thousand fan letters that authors are heir to.  Ah, 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.  (Disclaimer a rework of Hamlet's famous soliloquy by William Shakespeare.)

Summary: Sequel to Just a Normal Boy.  Harry returns when the trouble has passed.  How will his friends greet him?  Most importantly, how do Ron and Hermione feel now that so many people were killed in a battle Harry could have won?  AU because of OotP.

**_GUILTY CONSCIENCE_**

By: Hopeful Writer

            I thought I could escape from my life.  I really did.  That was my problem.  That I ran away.

            I try not to think of it like that, but it was.  Running away, I mean.  My guilty conscience tells me that everyday.  I think that's why I came back.  Because I felt so bad about leaving that I had to see if there was anything left for me to do.

            I'm not sure what I expected.  To be welcomed back with open arms?  Yeah, right.  My bout of soul-searching had effected way too many people for them to just welcome me back.

            It's been two years.  Ron and Hermione have changed so much.  Ron's taller than he was before.  I didn't even think that was possible.  He mellowed out a bit too; that much was obvious when he didn't kill me the minute I showed up, even though I could see he wanted to.  Hermione's grown up a lot too.  She finally got the womanish figure I knew she'd been dying for.  Ron noticed that too, apparently, because they were together.  You could just tell.

            That, possibly more than anything, hurt the worst.  Not that they had gotten together exactly, but that they had done it while I was gone.  They moved on without me.  That wasn't the way it was supposed to happen.  We were supposed to grow old together, and be friends forever.

            Wow, I really screwed things up.

            I bit my lip as I faced them.  My two best friends.  Both of whom were glaring at me with hateful expressions.  I could imagine why.  "Er... hi."

            Er... hi?  That was the best I could come up with?

            Ron snorted.  Hermione squeezed his hand tightly, then released it.  "Hello, Harry," she greeted.  Her voice was cold, but at least she was talking to me.

            Ron mumbled something that might have been a greeting.

            "Uh... how have you been?"

            Now, I felt stupid.  I was totally sticking my foot in my mouth.  And Ron looked like he wanted to kill me.  "How have we been?" he asked, his voice deadly quiet.  "How have we _been_?  Why don't you ask George that?  Or Ginny?  Or _my mum_?"

            I understood what he meant.  My blood ran cold.  Not his mum.  Not Ginny.  Not George.  "I... I'm sorry," I said lamely.  Not that that could make up for anything.

            "Sorry?"  Ron laughed bitterly.  "Yeah, me too.  Sorry I ever considered you my best mate.  Sorry I had faith that you'd come back and help us fight.  That you'd _never _run away.  Never leave us like that.  Sorry I was such a naïve bloody fool."

            "Ron..." Hermione whispered, obviously trying to stop him.  She didn't have to.  I deserved everything.

            "No, Hermione, he needs this," Ron told her furiously.  "He needs to know what hell we've been in.  He needs to know exactly what he left behind."  He turned back to me, and I could practically see the fire in his eyes.  "You want to know everything, Potter?  You want to know how Ginny stood up to six Death Eaters only to be shot down by Lucius bloody Malfoy?  How she spent _three hours_ on the edge of death before she finally crossed over?  Do you want to know how Fred tried to drown himself after George got killed?  How my father hasn't spoken since my mum died in the final battle?  How Voldemort _tortured_ her trying to find out where the bloody Boy-Who-Lived had hidden?  How he killed her when she wouldn't, _couldn't_ give him any useful information?  Is that what you wanted when you came back here, Harry Potter?  Or is there something else?"

            I felt sick.  Really sick.  Molly Weasley was the only person in the world I considered like a mother.  I might as well have killed her myself.  It might have saved her some pain.

            "Ron, that's enough," Hermione stated firmly.  "I'm pretty sure you've sufficiently made him feel like shit."

            The curse word surprised me, and so did Ron's compliance ("Good," he remarked, still glaring, but he backed off).  I could feel the weight of Hermione's stare on me, and I looked at her nervously, waiting for her to start on me.

            "Why'd you come back, Harry?" she asked wearily, like my presence exhausted her.

            I didn't really have an answer for that, so I wasn't going to say anything.  But Ron's sharp glare made me open my mouth.  "I... I don't know.  I felt... really... guilty.  I just... wanted to see if I could help."

            Ron started to speak, but Hermione silenced him with a look.  Her face had taken on that cold, calculating look that I had seen many times while she was doing homework.  "Why did you leave?"

            The way she asked it, her voice real small and hurt, shot arrows of guilt coursing through my veins.  The glare on Ron's face softened a little, and he looked hurt too.  I looked at the ground.  "I was scared," I whispered, the words I had been hiding from myself pouring out, suddenly unhindered.  "He was hurting everyone around me.  I thought if I left, you would be safe.  That he'd leave you alone, you know?  It just didn't work the way I had hoped."

            There was silence, broken only when Ron cracked a knuckle.  I could feel Hermione looking at me again, but I didn't look back.  I didn't want to see the disappointment on her face.

            She finally spoke up.  "We can't forgive you, you know," she told me matter-of-factly.  "Too much has happened.  I think... I think it'd be better if you just went back to wherever you were and left us alone for now.  Maybe someday we'll meet up again, but I don't think we should see each other now.  Frankly, Ron and I blame you.  So you probably shouldn't stick around."

            That hurt worse than if either of them had hit me.  I should have known that they wouldn't accept my reasoning.  Should have figured it out.

            But it still hurt.

            I nodded.  "Right then.  I... I'm still sorry.  About everything.  Maybe I'll see you around."

            "I hope not," Ron replied, nodding at me curtly and turning his back.  Hermione followed him back into their house.  I followed them with my eyes.

            I'd give anything not to be a normal 19-year-old anymore.

A/N – That was surprisingly easy to write.  Guilty!Harry is fun.


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